


Quarantine

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death Threats, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Reconciliation, stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: “What the hell, Raf?” Carisi demanded as he let himself into Barba’s office without knocking.“Please, come in, make yourself at home,” Barba snarked tiredly without even looking up from the casefile he was reviewing, his feet propped up on his desk.“You’ve been getting death threats again.”Carisi didn’t bother phrasing it like a question and Barba did look up at that, his eyes narrowed. “Olivia wasn’t supposed to tell you.”“Why the hell not?” Carisi snapped, crossing to Barba’s desk in two long strides. “I have the right to know—”“No, last time I checked, you lost that right,” Barba said coldly, glaring up at Carisi. “Right around the time when you told me that you weren’t in love with me anymore.”





	1. Isolation

**Author's Note:**

> Aiming to update this once a week. We shall see.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Carisi set his bag down at his desk before glancing around the precinct, surprised that he was the only one there since he had been stuck in traffic. Of course, there was a good chance that Fin and Amanda had already left for whatever assignment they’d be working on that day, but normally Amanda texted him when that happened.

His phone had remained silent all morning.

The blinds were closed in Olivia’s office and Carisi took a sip of coffee as he wandered toward her office to see if she was in there, pausing when he heard voices. He cautiously knocked on the door before poking his head in. “Hey Lieu,” he said, trying not to sound as curious as he felt at seeing Amanda and Olivia standing and looking at a bunch of printouts spread across Olivia’s desk. “What’s going on?”

Unless he was imagining it, for a moment, something like guilt flashed across Olivia’s face. “Nothing,” she said, quickly gathering the papers together. “Are you all caught up on your paperwork?”

Carisi’s brow furrowed. “Close enough,” he said. “Is there a new case?”

Amanda and Olivia exchanged a glance. “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Olivia told him, and Carisi’s frown deepened.

“Lieu, Fin’s out of the office and we’re understaffed as is,” he pointed out evenly. “If it’s something that I can help with, then—”

“It’s not,” Olivia said with a sigh. “There would be a conflict of interest if you were involved.”

Carisi’s blood ran cold. “Is it— is it one of my sisters?” he asked, reaching out to steady himself against one of the chairs. “Or my niece again? Please don’t tell me that she—”

“Oh, God, no, it’s nothing like that,” Amanda said quickly, giving Olivia a dirty look as she rubbed Carisi’s arm soothingly. “It just involves someone…” She hesitated, as if not sure how to word it. “Someone you used to be close with.”

“How close?” Carisi asked warily, and Amanda and Olivia exchanged another glance before realization hit. “You mean, Barba?” Neither of them seemed able to meet his eyes, which only confirmed it for him. “What happened?”

“Carisi,” Olivia sighed, but Carisi refused to let her interrupt.

“Is he ok?” he asked urgently. “Was he attacked? Or—?”

Amanda shook her head. “He’s been getting death threats again,” she said, ignoring the look Olivia gave her. 

She said it so nonchalantly that Carisi was thrown off-guard. “He...what?”

Olivia cleared her throat. “He’s been getting death threats for the past few months. They’ve been markedly different from the previous threats he’s gotten, but serious enough that we’ve been investigating the source.”

Carisi ignored the latter part of what she said, his expression darkening. “Months?” he repeated, his voice cracking. “This has been going on for months and he didn’t tell me?”

“He reported it to the proper authorities,” Olivia said carefully, still conspicuously avoiding his eyes.

“The proper authorities who didn’t tell me that they were investigating,” Carisi said harshly, and Olivia looked slightly guilty at that. “Lieu, I shoulda been your first call—”

“He asked us not to tell you.”

Carisi recoiled, his jaw clenched. “Why the hell would he do that?” he demanded.

Olivia straightened, her expression evening out. “I imagine that’s something you’d have to take up with him,” she said coolly. “And seeing as how you can’t work this case from our end anyway—”

It was as clear a dismissal as anything, but Carisi still glared at her. “You should’ve told me,” he said, his voice low. “I know he’s your friend, Lieu, but trying to protect him—”

“He wasn’t the one I was trying to protect.” Olivia met his gaze squarely. “You’re dismissed, Detective.”

Carisi scowled but something in Olivia’s expression stopped him from saying anything more. Instead, he jerked a nod before turning and storming out of her office, making a beeline for the elevators. 

If Olivia wasn’t going to give him a straight answer on why she didn’t tell him, there was still one person who might.

* * *

 

“What the hell, Raf?” Carisi demanded as he let himself into Barba’s office without knocking.

“Please, come in, make yourself at home,” Barba snarked tiredly without even looking up from the casefile he was reviewing, his feet propped up on his desk.

“You’ve been getting death threats again.”

Carisi didn’t bother phrasing it like a question and Barba did look up at that, his eyes narrowed. “Olivia wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why the hell not?” Carisi snapped, crossing to Barba’s desk in two long strides. “I have the right to know—”

“No, last time I checked, you lost that right,” Barba said coldly, glaring up at Carisi. “Right around the time when you told me that you weren’t in love with me anymore.”

Carisi flinched, his shoulders slumping as he looked away from Barba. “That’s not what I said, Raf,” he said quietly. “I’ve never said that.”

“You might as well have,” Barba said, equally soft, before clearly his throat and looking back up at him, his carefully neutral expression back in place. “So now you know. Is there something else that I can help you with, Detective?”

“What, you think I’m just gonna leave now that I know you’ve gotten death threats?” Carisi asked, incredulous. “Who’s set up your security? Do Olivia and Amanda have any leads?”

Barba gave him a look. “Those both sound like questions that your colleagues could answer for you.” Carisi scowled at him but Barba’s expression didn’t change. “I’m serious, Detective. I have work to do, and answering your questions when you’re not even on this case is not my job. So get out.”

Carisi crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Make me.”

Barba stared at him. “Are you serious? What are we, in elementary school?”

“I am serious,” Carisi said flatly. “You want me gone, you’re gonna have to remove me yourself.” 

Barba sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew I was going to regret letting my gym membership lapse,” he murmured sourly before glaring at Carisi. “Fine. I don’t have security. Threat assessment doesn’t think I’m in imminent danger. As far as leads go, not so much, though Det. Rollins believes that the threats are related to one of my recent cases.”

“Why does she think that?”

Barba rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, something to do with the language used. I know this will shock you, but I don’t particularly enjoy reading about all the graphic ways someone wants to watch me die, so I haven’t exactly done a close textual analysis of all the various threats.”

“All of them? Christ, Barba, how many have there been?” Barba jerked a shrug and Carisi gritted his teeth. “Are we talking emails? Letters? Phone calls?”

Barba sighed and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. “All of the above,” he muttered.

“Jesus fucking—”

“Why do you even care?” Barba snapped. “You were the one who walked away, so don’t pretend like you have a vested interest in this.”

“Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I want you dead!” Carisi half-shouted, exasperated.

“Maybe not, but it does mean that you don’t get to show up here with this self-righteous bullshit and pretend like you suddenly care. Not to mention, I am working which means now is decidedly not the time or place—”

Carisi ignored him, spotting something on Barba’s desk and snatching it up. “Is this a new threat?”

“It’s a piece of mail,” Barba said with a sigh. “I don’t exactly screen every single letter that my office gets—”

“It’s a hand-delivered envelope, not mail, so unless you’re expecting something…” He didn’t wait for Barba’s reply, tearing the envelope open and sliding the letter out.

“US Code 18 Section 1708,” Barba said idly. “Mail Theft. Felony.”

Carisi ignored him, scanning through the letter, his heart dropping even further with every sentence that he read. “This wasn’t delivered here, was it?” he asked, and Barba suddenly seemed very occupied with the papers on his desk. “Jesus Christ, Barba, they know your home address? Does threat assessment know that?”

“Just give me that,” Barba snapped, reaching out and snatching the letter from Carisi, wincing as he did. “Fuck, papercut,” he swore, glaring down at his finger as if it had personally offended him.

Carisi stared down at the envelope still in his hands, all of the blood draining from his face. “Rafael.”

He tried to keep his voice calm but something in his tone had Barba glancing back up at him. “What?” he snapped before sticking his thumb in his mouth to suck the blood that had welled from the papercut.

“I need you to very slowly and carefully hand me that letter back,” Carisi said, as calmly as he could, and praying that Barba wouldn’t argue with him on this.

For a moment, it looked like Barba right refuse, more on principle than anything, but he studied Carisi’s face for a moment before silently handing the letter back to Carisi. “What—?” he started, but Carisi cut him off.

“Now I need you to shut the window, and I need you to text Carmen and tell her to quickly and quietly leave the building.”

Carisi had his own phone out already, the envelope and letter held at arm’s distance, and as such he almost missed the startled look that Barba threw him, even as he moved over to the window. “Can’t I just open the door and tell her?” he asked.

Carisi shook his head. “No.”

“Sonny, what the hell is going on?”

Carisi finished sending the various text messages he needed to before he set his phone and the letter down on Barba’s desk. “That envelope didn’t just have a letter in it,” he said, somewhat grimly. “It was laced with white powder.”

Barba blinked. “What, like anthrax?” he asked skeptically.

“Could be,” Carisi said honestly. “Or it could be something else.”

“Sure, like baby powder or talc,” Barba snapped. “This is asinine, Sonny—” He was interrupted the fire alarm blaring, and he glanced around, startled. “Don’t we have to evacuate?” he asked.

Carisi shook his head slowly. “Hazmat protocol,” he said. “We’ve both handled the material and until we know if it’s something biological or contagious, we won’t be permitted to leave.” He gave Barba a tight smile. “So might as well get comfortable, Counselor. We’ll be here awhile.”

Barba sighed heavily. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”


	2. Detention

“This is hell,” Barba remarked idly, picking at the lint on the NYPD sweatpants he now wore.

Both Carisi and Barba had been summarily stripped of their clothes by the hazmat team, dressed like every bad movie Carisi had ever seen in massive yellow spacesuit-like biohazard suits as they took their clothes and the envelope and letter before promptly sealing them back in Barba’s office with strict orders not to go anywhere.

“Funny,” Carisi said from where he was lounging on the couch, “stuck with nothing to do but work seems like what you always wanted.”

“Maybe it’s the company that’s hell,” Barba shot back.

For a moment, they both just glared at each other before blurting in unison, “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed able to look at the other after that. “I don’t want us to be like this,” Sonny confessed, sitting upright.

Barba just sighed. “What did you expect?” he asked, scrubbing a tired hand across his face. “For us to be friends? Most people don’t stay friends with their exes.”

“And we’re not most people,” Carisi said stubbornly. “I mean, c’mon, Raf, we’ve got too much history between us to let something like this stop us from at least being cordial.”

“Cordial,” Barba repeated dubiously. “What does that even look like for us?”

Carisi shrugged. “Well, you snarked at me when we were dating and you snark at me now that we’re not, so I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that it’s gonna look a lot like you snarking at me still.”

“I’m not entirely sure snark is a verb,” Barba said dryly, though for a brief moment, it looked like he was trying not to smile. “And if it’s going to look the same as usual, then what does it really matter?”

“I think the intention behind it is really what matters,” Carisi said evenly.

Barba made a face before sighing. “Fine,” he said, reluctantly. “I suppose I can curtail my particularly vicious snarking for the moment.” He glanced around his office, his expression sour. “At least until we’re out of here. After that, I make no guarantees.”

“I can live with that,” Carisi said, standing and crossing to Barba before holding his hand out. “Truce?”

Barba rolled his eyes but nonetheless shook Carisi’s hand. “Truce.”

His hand lingered just a little too long in Carisi’s, and Carisi cleared his throat before pulling his hand away. “Anyway,” he said, his tone turning businesslike, “good, because we got work to do.”

“We do?” Barba asked, bemused.

“Yeah,” Carisi said. “For starters, I need you to actually fill me in on what’s been going on with these threats.”

“Really?” Barba asked, making a face again.

“What, you got something better to do?”

Barba sighed. “Fine.” He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a file folder, sliding it across the desk to Carisi, who blanched when he saw just how thick the file was. “That’s copies of most everything: emails, letters, transcripts of voicemails. Probably a third of it is just the usual threats, but a decent chunk of it…” He trailed off at the look on Carisi’s face. “Anyway, the threats picked up around three months ago. And this—” He grabbed another file folder, this one crammed with copies of casefiles. “—is all the cases that I was working on around the time the threats started.”

Carisi’s took both file folders, his expression dark. “This is gonna take me awhile to go through.”

Barba half-smiled. “Good thing we’ve got some time on our hands, then.”

Despite himself, Carisi smiled as well. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess it is.”

They stayed like that for a long time, Carisi perched on the couch, flipping through the files Barba had given him while Barba reclined in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk. The next few hours passed in mostly comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional turning of a page, or a pen scratching on paper, or the gurgle from the coffee pot when Barba broke down and made more coffee after it looked like they weren’t getting out of there anytime soon.

Finally, Barba tossed the case file he held down on his desk and sighed, drawing a hand across his face. “I never thought I’d see the day but I’m actually out of work to do.”

Carisi laughed lightly and stretched. “Yeah, I never thought I’d see that day, either,” he said through a yawn.

Barba’s expression darkened slightly at that before he glanced at him. “Cracked the case yet, Detective?”

“Not quite,” Carisi said with a sigh, glancing down at the papers he’d spread across the table in front of him. “Obviously my analysis isn’t as in depth as I’d like, but, uh, there’s definitely some of the same language repeated over and over.” He pointed at a few circled phrases before sighing again. “But unfortunately, none of it is directly related to any of the perps in the cases you worked around the time the threats started.”

“Figures,” Barba grumbled before heaving a sigh of his own. He glanced at Carisi. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Liv and Rollins have been working on this for weeks. I didn’t exactly expect you to solve it in one day.”

“I know,” Carisi said. “But I still gotta try.”

“Why?”

Carisi sighed. “You know why.”

“Sonny—” 

Barba broke off, coughing, and Carisi arched an eyebrow at him. “Lay off the cigarettes, Counselor,” he joked, and though Barba scowled at him, the coughing didn’t subside, and Carisi’s brow furrowed. “You ok? Raf?”

Barba waved a dismissive hand as he straightened, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, though he froze as he did. “Raf?” Carisi repeated, standing instantly and hurrying over to him, grabbing his wrist and staring down at the smear of blood on the back of Barba’s hand.

“I’m fine,” Barba said, even as he stared down at the blood. “Really. I — I feel fine.”

“I’m calling Liv,” Carisi said grimly, pulling his phone out of his pocket before Barba could protest. “Hey Lieu, it’s Carisi.” He glanced at Barba, who was still staring down at his hands. “Yeah, we, uh, we’ve got a situation here.”

He filled Olivia in and waited for her to give him an update. But what she told him wasn’t exactly reassuring, and he could feel the blood draining from his face as he listened. “OK, thanks, Lieu,” he said softly before hanging up and glancing back at Barba.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Barba said, wiping his hands with a napkin from his desk.

“It’s not,” Carisi said grimly. “Hazmat still hasn’t identified what the substance in the letter was, so we don’t know—” He broke off and swallowed, hard. “We don’t know how long—”

Barba’s expression flickered for just a moment before he looked away. “Is it contagious?” he asked, his voice a little rough.

Carisi shrugged. “We don’t know that either.”

Barba nodded slowly before looking up at him, his expression determined. “If there’s a chance it’s contagious, you need to get out of here,” he said firmly.

“What?” Carisi asked blankly. “Raf, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Go,” Barba ordered, marching over to the door and grabbing hold of the plastic sheeting that the hazmat team had taped over it before locking it. “You can kick down the door if you need to, I have no doubt of that. Go now before you get infected, too.”

“I may already be infected,” Carisi shot back, trailing after him to the door. “Besides, I’m not leaving you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Barba said viciously, and Carisi flinched. “Go, Sonny.”

“No.”

Barba’s jaw clenched. “Why the hell not? You had no problem running from me before, so—”

“Because it wasn’t you I was running away from then!” Carisi snapped.

For a moment, they both just stared at each other, their faces mere inches apart, before Barba tore his gaze away, a muscle working in his cheek. “We really don’t need to rehash this here,” he said, his voice low.

Carisi gave him a look. “Clearly we do.” Barba shook his head and Carisi took a step closer to him. “Please, Raf. I never got a chance to explain, and I know it’s my fault, but—”

“Explain?” Barba repeated, deathly quiet. “Fine, if it wasn’t me you were running away from, then what was it? Because from where I’m standing, things between us were fine, were great even, were—” 

“The best thing I ever had going for me,” Carisi interjected softly.

Barba’s glare deepened. “Sure,” he said, his voice harsh. “After all, you always said I was a great lay.”

“You were more than that,” Carisi told him.

Barba’s lip curled. “Hence why you left.”

“I left because I was scared!” Carisi said hotly.

Barba stared at him. “Scared of what?”

“Of—” Carisi waved a vague hand between them. “Of this. Of what it meant.”

“Of being gay?” Barba asked shrewdly.

Carisi shrugged. “Maybe a little,” he said honestly. “But I was mostly scared of losing you.” Barba stared up at him and Carisi sighed. “I had never felt that way about someone. And between this job and everything else, I don’t exactly have a great track record to run on here. So I figured—”

“What, that you’d do the job for me?” Barba asked skeptically.

“No, I figured I’d end it before either of us got in too deep,” Carisi said. “A little pain in the short term to avoid more pain in the long term. Or, uh...something like that, at least.”

“That backfired spectacularly,” Barba said dryly.

“You’re telling me.”

They both looked at each other and Carisi felt a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Barba shook his head, but he couldn’t stop his smile either, and before either of them knew it, they were both laughing, as much at the ridiculousness of the situation as anything else. “C’mere,” Carisi said, reaching out and pulling Barba to him, wrapping his arms around him and just holding him for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, and Barba sighed.

“Took you long enough to say it,” he muttered, but Carisi could hear the smile in his voice.

He pressed a kiss to Barba’s forehead, his eyes closing at having Barba close once more. “Raf, I need you to know—”

Barba rested a hand on Carisi’s chest, not quite hard enough to push him away but firm enough to hold him steady. “Now is probably not the time—”

Carisi opened his mouth to protest but was choked off by a cough, raising a hand to his mouth. When his cough finally subsided, he pulled his hand away from his mouth, unsurprised to see the blood that flecked his fingers, even if the sight turned his stomach. “So much for not being infected,” Carisi said grimly.

Something tightened in Barba’s face and he crossed over to his desk to grab another napkin for Carisi. “What do you think it is?” he asked, with something like forced bravado. “My money’s on a neurotoxin, like something out of a James Bond film. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go.”

Carisi took the napkin from him, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I can already see the headline in the paper — Manhattan ADA and NYPD Detective killed by mysterious neuro—” He froze, something clicking in the recesses of his memory. “Wait a minute.” He scrambled over to the case files and dug one out. “The vic in this case worked in a lab that researched biological weapons.”

“I remember,” Barba said, accepting the case file from Carisi and glancing down at it, his brow furrowed. “It’s part of the reason the case fell apart. The company refused to cooperate with the investigation, hiding behind a non-disclosure agreement with the government, and we weren’t able to get enough evidence to nail her attacker.”

“Exactly,” Carisi said excitedly.

“But why would her rapist send me threats?” Barba asked. “He got away.”

“Because we’ve been looking at this all wrong,” Carisi told him. “All this time, we’ve been assuming that the threats came from someone you convicted, but what if it came from someone from a case you  _ didn’t _ get a conviction in? Wouldn’t they blame you just as much?” Barba nodded slowly and Carisi grinned at him. “And don’t forget, the vic’s boyfriend worked at the same lab as her, so between the two of them...”

Barba smiled grimly. “Sonny, you’re a genius,” he said. 

Carisi’s grin widened. “Care to repeat that?”

Barba rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t fade. “Not on your life,” he said. “We have to call Liv. This will narrow the search for whatever that powder was at least—”

He broke off, coughing again, only this time, the cough didn’t seem to subside and he reached out blindly for his desk as if to steady himself but missed, falling to the floor. “Raf!” Carisi shouted, rushing to his side and kneeling next to him. 

Barba shook his head, clearly struggling to breathe, his chest rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths, and when he looked at Carisi, there was blood staining his teeth. “Sonny,” he whispered, but he couldn’t seem to manage anything more than that, just leaning back against his desk.

“Stay with me, Raf,” Carisi said urgently, grabbing his cellphone and fighting his own cough that he could feel rising in his chest. “Stay with me. We’re gonna get you outta here, ok? Just stay with me.”

Barba shook his head again, slower this time. “Too...late.”

“No, goddamnit, no it’s not,” Carisi snarled, and he didn’t even realize he had started to cry until he saw the tears land on Barba’s shirt. “No, just stay with me, please.”

Barba nodded once, his eyes fluttering closed. “Stay,” he whispered, and Carisi swore, grabbing onto Barba before he tipped over.

He gripped Barba’s hand between both of his. “Listen to me,” he ordered, and Barba’s eyes opened once more. “I never stopped loving you, ok? I promise you, Raf, everything else that happened between us — that never changed. I love you.” He squeezed Barba’s hand. “And I know it’s too late but I want to try again. I’m not afraid anymore, and you’re gonna be ok. I promise.”

“Sonny,” Barba started once more, before another cough wracked his body and he toppled over, lying against the floor.

“Stay with me, Raf,” Carisi pleaded, coughing as well as he pulled his cellphone out to call Olivia. The screen of his phone swam in front of him and Carisi blinked, trying to steady himself, even as his cough continued. “Just...stay.”


	3. Exclusion

Carisi blinked at his phone, trying hard to concentrate enough to call Olivia, but his vision was already starting to black out on the periphery and he couldn’t seem to focus enough on the numbers to press them. He made a half-hearted attempt anyway, knowing that if he did nothing, then Barba—

He shook his head to try to clear it, focusing determinedly on his phone, even as he felt his grip on it start to falter. His hands gave out and his phone tumbled to the ground, Carisi following soon after, unable to hold himself upright as he struggled for air. “Raf,” he whispered, reaching out for Barba’s hand, glad in a perverse way that they would at least die together.

Just then, the door to Barba’s office burst open, and EMTs swarmed the place. “What—?” Carisi tried to ask, but they didn’t bother explaining anything as they took his vitals and slipped an oxygen mask over his face.

Amanda and Olivia’s worried faces swam into view and Carisi blinked at them. “We got him, Sonny,” Amanda told him urgently, gripping his hand, and Carisi tried to remember when he had let go of Barba’s hand. “The guy who sent the letter — he’s in custody. And we got the antidote. You’re gonna be fine.”

But Carisi didn’t care what happened to him, twisting to try to find Barba. “Raf—” he tried to ask, his faint breath fogging the oxygen mask, but Amanda just squeezed his hand.

“Save your strength,” she said. “The paramedics are working on him. You need to focus on you now, ok?”

Carisi stared up at her, surprised to see that she looked like she was trying not to cry, and he opened his mouth to say something when one of the EMTs shouted, “We’re losing him!”

Barba was completely blocked from view by the EMTs that surrounded him but still Carisi strained to see past them, to see any indication that Barba was going to be ok. “Raf,” he tried once more, but between the oxygen mask and the commotion, no one heard him.

“It’s ok,” one of the EMTs working on him told him. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Carisi nodded slowly, his eyelids fluttering closed as the EMTs lifted him onto a gurney, and the whole world went black.

* * *

 

“Good morning!” Carisi said brightly as he stepped out of the elevator at Lincoln Hospital carrying two cups of coffee, and the nurse sitting at the desk smiled up at him.

“Det. Carisi,” she said warmly, before adding, “You’re late, you know. Visiting hours ended half an hour ago.”

“I know, I know,” Carisi told her. “I got held up in court.”

He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes and she pursed her lips in disapproval even though she made no attempt to stop him as he walked past. “Hey, did anyone pick today as the day?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Because I’m pretty sure today’s gonna be it.”

The nurse just laughed and shook her head as she shooed him away from the desk. “Go on, I got work to do,” she scolded. “Besides, he’s waiting for you.”

Carisi grinned as he carefully balanced both coffees in one hand to open the door to room 618, the name ‘R. BARBA’ printed underneath the room number.

“Hey, Raf,” he said, setting the coffees down on the bedside table before bending and kissing Barba’s forehead, smoothing the other man’s hair away after he did. “How’re you feeling? What do you think — is today the day?”

Barba said nothing in return, lying motionless as the machines that surrounded his bed maintained the same steady beat that they had for the past month, and Carisi looked at him closely before sighing and sitting down next to him, reaching automatically for his hand.

A month ago, after he had woken in this same hospital, sore and exhausted but alive and able to breathe on his own again, Carisi had demanded to see Barba.

Instead, they had brought the doctor in to see him.

“The toxin was designed to break down the lining of the lungs,” the doctor had told him, her tone clipped. “You’re lucky that we got to you in time. Too much longer without the antidote…”

She trailed off and Carisi nodded. “I would’ve suffocated?” he supplied, and she shook her head.

“Drowned, actually. Your lungs would have filled with blood and—” She broke off at the look on Carisi’s face and cleared her throat. “Anyway, we administered the antidote to both you and Mr. Barba. You responded immediately to the treatment but I’m afraid for Mr. Barba, we were too late.”

Carisi’s heart stopped. “You mean—” he started, his voice strangled, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer. Mr. Barba is alive, but he’s in a coma.”

Carisi closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. “A coma,” he repeated after a long moment. “Well that’s...I mean, it’s not great, but people wake up from comas all the time, right?”

The doctor looked down at the chart in her hands and sighed. “Det. Carisi,” she said carefully, “what you have to understand is that Mr. Barba was deprived of oxygen for significantly longer than you were.”

“Why?” Carisi asked, his brow furrowed. “I mean, you got to us at the same time—”

“Correct, but while you inhaled the powdered toxin, Mr. Barba absorbed it through his bloodstream by what we assume was a papercut.” Carisi had a sudden, nasty recollection of Barba swearing and sucking the tip of his thumb, and his heart sank. “And this particular toxin works faster when absorbed than inhaled. Unfortunately, being deprived of oxygen for as long as he was means…”

She hesitated, and Carisi swallowed. “Means what?” he asked hoarsely.

“It means that we don’t know if he’ll ever wake up. And if he does, we have no idea what condition he will be in. His brain was without oxygen for long enough that he’s at risk for severe cognitive deficits.”

Carisi sat back in his hospital bed, a stubborn set to his jaw. “Ok,” he said.

The doctor frowned. “Detective, I’m not sure you understand. If he wakes up — and at this point, that is a very big if — there’s a very real chance that he may never be the same as he was. He may never walk again, or sit up unassisted, or even talk, and—”

“Doc, I’m sure you’re right,” Carisi interrupted, his tone just firm enough to show that his mind was made up. “That may happen, but you yourself said that we don’t know that.” He leaned forward. “I already walked away from Rafael once because I was too scared to take a chance. I’m not gonna do it again.”

The doctor had tried to argue further, but Carisi had refused to yield.

To him, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to walk away.

And he hadn’t.

Even after he got discharged from the hospital, Carisi had returned every single day to sit by Barba’s side, to watch him for any sign that the coma might be ending, that he might wake up. Some days he brought the latest issue of a law review, and read the articles out loud to him, acting out the arguments he imagined Barba might make. Other days, it was just like today, coffee and a hasty check in after work.

He had started the bet with the nurses when he was still in the hospital, joking that they should place money on which day Barba would wake up. He had stubbornly placed his money on that first Friday, and subsequently lost 10 bucks.

It was in the second week that he asked the main nurse in a slightly desperate tone, “Did anyone bet on never?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” she told him fiercely. “We all believe he’ll come back to you, Detective.”

Carisi had managed a smile and returned to Barba’s room feeling just a little bit better.

But after a month, even he had to admit that he was beginning to wonder. The nurses’ smiles all looked just a little bit sad when they saw him visiting, and Amanda had tried to stop him on his way out that evening. “Sonny,” she sighed. “You need to take a break.”

“Sure,” Carisi said, amused. “And the day I skip the hospital is the day he wakes up. And you know as well as I do that he’ll never let that go.”

But Amanda caught his arm before he could slip away. “Sonny,” she said, a little firmer. “You aren’t dating. He’s not your boyfriend. I think…” She trailed off, searching Carisi’s expression. “I think you’re making this more than what it is. And I’m worried what’s going to happen to you when he doesn’t wake up.”

“If.”

Amanda’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“ _If_ he doesn’t wake up.” Carisi pulled his arm out of Amanda’s grasp. “And I gotta believe he will.”

Still, it was easier to make that promise at the precinct than here in the hospital, staring at Barba who hadn’t moved in weeks, at the stubble dusting his chin that Carisi was going to have to try to shave again just as he had every few days though almost certainly not to Barba’s standards, at the machines that until this point had given no indication that Barba was even remotely close to waking up.

But Carisi had made a promise. He wasn’t going to leave again.

He squeezed Barba’s hand once more and stood, bending to kiss his forehead again. “Sorry I can’t stay long,” he said, not letting go of Barba’s hand. “I’m on call tonight and you know my luck, so I gotta get some sleep while I can. But I’ll be back tomorrow, and, uh, I’ll find something new to read you. Maybe some trashy novel that I know you’d hate.”

He smirked at Barba, though his smirk faded slightly when Barba gave no indication of having heard, and Carisi sighed. He lifted his free hand to run it through Barba’s hair, feeling his throat tighten. “I’m not leaving you, Raf,” he promised, his voice low. “But...come back to me soon. Please.”

Carisi turned to go when he froze, feeling the faintest pressure on his hand, still laced with Barba’s. He turned, his heart pounding in his chest, looking frantically for any sign that he hadn’t imagined it. When he saw none, his shoulders slumped, and he squeezed his eyes closed, choking back the sob he could feel building in his chest.

He swallowed hard and turned away again, this time making it all the way to the door until he stopped to look back at Barba, who hadn’t moved. “I love you,” he told him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was already halfway out the door when he froze again. This time, it wasn’t a touch that kept him rooted to the spot but a noise, one so intimately familiar that Carisi’s breath caught at just the faintest hint of it,

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes closed, not trusting himself to hope. But then he heard it again, so softly that he could barely hear it over the steady beeping of the machines, so softly that he would’ve forgiven himself for believing he imagined it.

But he hadn’t imagined it. Not this time.

“Sonny,” Barba whispered.

And then, even more faintly, a simple command Carisi knew he would never again be able or even want to say no to, not after this, not after everything:

“Stay.”


End file.
